


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Vulcan

by TozaBoma



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: But it was aliens, I'm not saying it was aliens, Other, and everyone's strung out from the last season, the gag is they keep getting side-tracked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-20 07:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13712523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TozaBoma/pseuds/TozaBoma
Summary: In the dying moments of S01xE15, the Discovery is ordered to Vulcan but gets side-tracked. What if they keep getting side-tracked so they have to keep their Acting Captain for the whole of season 2? Yes please! This is a series of one-shots detailing just that. SPOILERS for season 1 only. For those about to read, I salute you.





	1. A Cup of Sugar

**ONE**

**A Cup of Sugar**

 

Saru heard the rather petulant beep from the console across the bridge of the USS _Discovery_ but did not give it much thought. Ambassador Sarek was standing right next to his command chair and he was just considering if, like himself, the Ambassador ever had to duck to get through human-sized doors.

“Incoming transmission,” Bryce said.

Saru turned to preserve the illusion that he had been paying attention. “From whom?”

“I’m having trouble… identifying it. But it’s a priority one distress call.”

“Identify the source, please,” Saru asked.

“I’m getting a Federation ID code - it’s choppy,” Bruce said, his fingers dancing over the surface of his console in a determined effort to glean more information from the odd signal. “Trying to clean it up, sir.”

“Helm,” Saru said, trying to keep the trepidation from his voice, “slow us down.”

Lieutenant Detmer at the helm nodded. “Dropping us out of warp now, sir.”

The star field in front of them slammed to a stop. Hardly a person flinched, but Saru felt quite clearly his threat ganglia gearing themselves up for a show-stopping performance. He cleared his throat and opened a channel to the apparently empty stars. “This is Captain Saru of the Federation starship _Discovery_. Please identify yourselves.”

Silence.

Saru glanced over, unsurprised to see Commander Burnham frowning with disapproval. He shifted in his chair, just a little. “You requested assistance. We can provide this. Who are you?”

Silence.

He let his head cant to one side. Then he turned to look over at Bryce. “Can you _find_ them? Do we have a visual?”

Bryce manipulated his console but shook his head. “No, sir.”

“I’ve got them,” Burnham announced.

Saru turned the other way in his chair. “Show us, please.”

Burnham’s fingers flew over her own controls. “I’m tracking a plasma leak, Captain, that’s all. It’s like the ship itself is cloaked.”

Saru’s neck stiffened. He straightened up just as threat ganglia began to shoot out from the back of his skull in determined spines of raging fear. “Shields, please. Now,” he said crisply. “Bring the weapons online and be ready to use them.”

“Aye sir,” Lieutenant Owosekun said gratefully.

A tremendous jolt nearly pitched Ambassador Sarek from his feet. He grasped the edge of the nearest available console before he found out the hard way how immune Vulcan foreheads were to impact. Everyone else clutched at their work stations.

“We’re being fired upon, Captain!” Burnham called over another _boom_ and a shake.

“By whom? Where are they?” Saru demanded. “And where are our shields?”

“Shields are at eighty percent and falling!” Owosekun said urgently. “I don’t know what they’re firing but it’s more powerful than anything we have!”

“Commander - track the plasma leak and launch a torpedo at it!” Saru ordered.

Burnham complied; they saw a streak of light and power shoot out from somewhere behind their own front screen. It darted out into space and collided with an invisible wall. The fallout was an impressive light-show of reds and yellows. A ripple effect followed; it revealed a dark metal hull of _something_ before it shimmered again into invisibility.

“Target that explosion and fire!” Saru snapped.

Burnham again sent a torpedo. As the crew watched, the _Discovery_ rocked with another impact.

“Shields at forty percent, sir,” Owosekun said.

“Reverse course, Lieutenant Detmer,” Saru said. “Back us up - we need to see who we’re fighting.” He looked up at Sarek. Another jolt to the ship, another wobble and crash somewhere from behind his chair. “Perhaps you should retire to a safer room, Ambassador.”

“Indeed,” Sarek managed, before turning and whisking out of door to the bridge.

The _Discovery_ retreated, the viewscreen now taking in the sight of torpedo after torpedo slamming into an unseen force. The ripples overlapped in time, showing half of a ship, almost saucer-shaped.

“Any idea who that is?” Saru called.

“Sir, they’re powering something else up - not weapons,” Owosekun said. “It’s drawing a lot of energy.”

“Status of our shields?” he asked.

“Ten percent. We can survive maybe two more hits.”

“Then take us about, Lieutenant Detmer - evasive manoeuvres,” he urged.

“Sir,” she replied.

The _Discovery_ reeled; a shot went straight under a warp nacelle and off into empty space.

“Sir!” Bryce called. “Reports from deck six - we’ve been boarded!”

“A transporter,” Burnham hissed. “Our shields were so low they sneaked on board while they kept us busy with the fight.”

Saru jammed a thumb into the switch on the arm of his chair. “Security to deck six!” he demanded. “We have been boarded - find and contain our unwanted visitors!”

“Aye sir,” came a reply.

He looked over at Burnham. “How many and where? Feed it through to the Security team and keep them apprised.”

“Sir,” she nodded. She read her console, tortured it for answers. “Looks like six humanoids - my guess is they’re heading for the crew quarters.”

“That’s where the Ambassador will be headed—. Take a weapon and escort him,” he said.

“Yes sir.” She looked over at the Ensign by her station. “Take over.” He nodded and fairly leapt out of his chair to take her place. She turned and hurried to the door and out.

The corridor rocked. She put her hand to the wall to keep herself upright. Shouts, weapons fire ahead - she gasped and broke into a run.

Pounding round the corner, panting in fear of what she might find - she screeched to a halt. “Tilly!”

Ensign Sylvia Tilly was brandishing a broken PADD in her right hand, her left held across Ambassador Sarek - who seemed rather non-plussed at the way she had shoved him against the corridor behind them.

“What did I just hit?” Tilly blurted.

Burnham looked at the humanoid on the floor. It was moaning and holding a hand to its temple.

“A Nausicaan,” Sarek said calmly. “Theory: they are here to plunder the ship and kill anyone who attempts to stop them.”

“Well he shot at us and I really wasn’t in the mood,” Tilly said, her face red. “Then he tried to shove me to get to Ambassador Sarek but I tripped him and smashed this over his head. —Where’s his gun?”

Burnham shot forwards and her knee went into the Nausicaan’s head. He keeled over but grunted at her, reaching blindly. She stamped on his hand and freed the weapon from his fingers. Bending to pick it up, she retreated to the wall. “Is everyone alright?” she asked, turning the small phase pistol on the Nausicaan.

“I am,” Sarek said, with the barest hint of a smile, “and also indebted to Ensign Tilly for her quick actions.”

“Oh, well, y’know, once you’ve been a vicious conqueror of entire star systems, the rest of life seems easy,” she said weakly.

Burnham pulled her communicator from the back of her uniform trousers. “Captain Saru? It’s Nausicaans. Tilly stopped one in the corridor; Ambassador Sarek is unharmed.”

“Nausicaans! We must contain them all - continue to deck six and assist Security, Commander.”

“Yes _sir_.” She flipped it closed and looked at Tilly. “You’re with me.” She turned to Sarek. “Please - return to the bridge. They’re all in front of us; you’ll be safe if you go back the way you came.”

“That may be true, but the more hands you have to help you the better. And I am not entirely helpless,” he said.

Tilly opened her mouth, then closed it again as her face went bright red. “Oh - er—”

Sarek put a hand on her shoulder. “Offering help and protection does not imply the object of your offer cannot help or protect themselves, Ensign. It is merely a sign of compassion.”

“Ok,” she said quietly. “Uh - we should go, then.” She looked down. “What do we do with him?”

“Hey,” Burnham said, pushing a boot into his knee. “Do you understand me?”

“We will strip your ship of what we need and kill you all!” he grunted.

“You really won’t,” Tilly scoffed.

Burnham glanced at her and Tilly put a finger over her mouth in self reproach. Burnham reached down and grabbed at the man’s lapel. “How many of you are there?”

“More than you.”

“You lie,” she said simply. “What do you want from us?”

“Everything!” he spat.

“Does this weapon have a stun setting?” she asked, letting him go.

“No - Nausicaans do not stun, fragile human!” he seethed.

“Ok that was rude,” Tilly said. “And it absolutely _does_ have a stun setting because it’s marked on the side.” She reached over and pushed at a small blue button by Burnham’s hand on the grip. “There. _Now_ it’ll stun.” Her eyes went back to the Nausicaan. “I mean, I _think_ it will.”

Burnham pointed it at the man’s head. “Let’s find out.”

“Kill me! It won’t change anything!” he hurled.

Burnham looked at Tilly. She nodded.

Burnham fired.

The man jumped as if kicked - and then relaxed.

Tilly bent down and poked at his cheek. “Yeah - he’s just stunned.”

“Good,” Burnham grinned. “Let’s go.”

“There must be more this way,” she said, turning and running off down the corridor. Burnham and Sarek exchanged a look before racing after her.

They went around one more bend before Tilly stopped them. Her hands went out as if for balance. “Do you hear that?” she asked. “It sounds like… fighting!” She went to the nearest door and opened it.

“Why won’t - _bang_ \- you just - _bang -_ stay - _bang_ \- down!”

The two humans jumped and even the Vulcan appeared wary as they crept in through the open door. Burnham took the lead, the phase pistol ready in front of her. Finding herself in the front room of someone’s quarters, she aimed for the bend toward the private bedroom.

“Filthy human!” _Smash!_

“Ugly bag of mostly shit!” _Crash!_

Burnham rounded the corner. She gasped. She fired.

The Nausicaan hit the floor.

Lieutenant Commander Paul Stamets, a cut over his eye and a chair raised over his head, simply panted in air as he stared down at the fallen alien. “And stay down!” he shouted in abject anger.

“Commander!” Burnham snapped.

He staggered back a step and slowly, carefully, let the chair down to the carpet. “She surprised me,” he said defensively. “Where did you get that?”

Burnham let the phase pistol fall to her side. “ _Discovery_ has been boarded - we reckon there are six Nausicaans on the ship. Tilly got one, you got another - they’re heading deeper into crew quarters.”

Stamets nodded, getting some breath back and pulling his uniform straight. “Of course they are,” he breathed with lethargy. Then his face screwed up in patent confusion. “Wait, why?”

Two new heads appeared round the corner. “Ambassador Sarek thinks they’re here to rob us and kill everyone,” Tilly said cheerfully. “You ok? How’s your head?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, wiping a red dribble from his forehead irritably. “How did they get on board?”

“They reduced the ship’s shield strength until they were able to beam over,” Sarek said. “Are you sure you are quite well?”

“I’m fine, sir, thank you,” Stamets said. “Just… needed to let off some steam.”

“Hmm.” Sarek turned to Burnham. “There are still four of them somewhere.”

“Let’s go,” she nodded, turning and hurrying out.

Stamets watched them leave. Then he stepped over the fallen woman, grabbed her phase pistol, and chased after them.

 

-^-

 

Saru got up and went to the comms console. “Commander Burnham, do you hear me?”

“Here, sir,” came the reply.

“The Nausicaan ship has ceased fire. We believe it was automated to attack us while they beamed over.”

“Captain - Lieutenant Stamets has subdued another Nausicaan - there should only be four left.”

“Be careful, Commander - they are renowned for their brute strength and fighting skills,” he nodded. “We have no shields to speak of and we cannot rule out the chance of another Nausicaan ship coming to try to share the spoils. Please make haste in apprehending the other four.”

“Yes sir.”

He leant back to inspect the comms officer. “Good work, Mister Bryce. Now please continue to scan for any sign of approaching vessels. Alert me as soon as you hear anything.”

“Aye sir,” he nodded.

 

-^-

 

Lieutenant Commander Airiam hummed a smooth, computed melody as she picked up a clean uniform and carried it to the array of empty hangars on her bed. As she passed the front door to her quarters it slid open and a dark shape leapt in.

Something grabbed her by the throat. “Find me the good stuff, robot girl!”

Her elbow came up. The assailant’s grip weakened. She spun on the spot and her mostly metallic head smashed into her female attacker.

She cried out in paid and slapped one hand over her eye. Airiam backed up and judged distances. She whirled and flicked her boot out. It crashed into the woman’s head and she went down faster than spaghetti from a tilted plate. Airiam watched her but she was definitely out for the count. She bent and picked up her fallen weapon, inspecting it for a moment before walking to the side table and picking up her communicator. She flipped it open.

“Captain? This is Lieutenant Commander Airiam. I have an unconscious stranger in my quarters; is everything alright?”

 

-^-

 

Burnham looked across the doorway at Tilly. She leant against the other side of the doorframe and nodded, still clutching her broken PADD.

Burnham pressed the button to the officer’s mess. The door shot open.

A shot whizzed past her nose. She jerked back but fired blindly. Her subsequent commando roll was rudely interrupted by a cupboard - and then Tilly had crashed into the row of storage compartments next to her. They scrabbled to sit upright with their backs to the barrier that was now taking fire from the other side.

“Stop what you’re doing and surrender!” Burnham called.

She saw the door open again. Her eyes widened; she spun and her hand came over the top of the cabinets, firing non-stop.

Stamets and Sarek made it inside under her covering fire. They took cover behind the cupboard on the other side of the room.

“Come out from there, human!” came a growl. “We’re hungry!”

Stamets, crouching to be hidden by the cupboards, looked across the divide at Burnham. “Is he saying he wants to eat us?”

“Do you have a weapon?” Burnham called at him.

“Yes, but—”

“Then give me some covering fire so I can get closer!” she cried.

“I’m not good at shooting!” he grumped.

“You went through training at the academy, right?”

“I’m an astromycologist, not a MACO!” he shot back.

“The Federation has not had MACOs for nearly ninety years,” Sarek put in mildly.

“Covering fire, Lieutenant, now!” Burnham called.

He huffed, muttered something under his breath, and then raised the weapon. But Sarek took it from him and motioned him out of the way. “I believe I can wound them without causing death,” he said.

“Don’t try too hard,” Stamets muttered.

Sarek glanced at him but then began to aim round the side of the cabinet.

The second he did, Burnham was on her feet. She whipped over the top of the storage bin and fired indiscriminately as she headed for the nearest shooter. She heard a noise behind her but did not stop.

The next second she was ramming full speed into a mountain of a woman. They grappled and she lost her phase pistol. They cursed and struggled, tried to get a grip, lost footing - she was tossed upside down to land on a table on her back. Phasers kept firing around them as the Nausicaan woman reached for her neck. Burnham planted her feet against her and heaved.

She stumbled back to be hit by weapons fire. She sank to the floor. Burnham slithered off the table to a crouch. An almighty _dong_ echoed round the room and it all went quiet.

Still crouched safely behind the cupboards, Stamets and Sarek shared a curious look. “What was that?” Stamets breathed.

Sarek kept the phase pistol in hand but dared to poke his head out. He found Burnham getting to her feet, feeling at her back, as she approached Tilly.

She had a giant, metal-bottomed frying pan in both hands. “Well there we are,” she said cheerfully. “Three Nausicaans on the floor.”

Burnham pulled out her communicator. “Captain? We have three more uninvited guests incapacitated in the mess hall. That leaves one.”

“Commander Burnham,” Saru replied. “Very well done. We have the other in custody - Lieutenant Commander Airiam was good enough to find one for us.”

Burnham sagged in relief. “Captain - request help from Security to take these three to the brig too.”

“Security have been alerted and are on their way,” Saru replied. “Perhaps once they have regained consciousness behind a secure force field we may then understand what all this was about.”

“We can hope, Captain,” she said. She flipped the communicator closed and stowed it in her uniform to appraise Tilly. “I think we’d all feel safer if I took that,” she said with a smile, reaching out and retrieving the frying pan.

Tilly chuckled somewhat nervously. “Maybe. I think I need some shore leave.”

“Don’t we all,” Stamets said guiltily, coming up to stop behind Burnham. He turned to see Sarek just behind him. “Thank you for the sharp shooting, Ambassador.”

“It was necessary,” he said, inclining his head before reversing the phase pistol and proffering it to Burnham. She took it gratefully and while they awaited Security, Tilly and Stamets collected up all the fallen weapons.

 

-^-

 

Saru folded his arms in complete serenity, watching the two men and four women argue about something very important between them. He paced sedately, in a way that conveyed utter indifference to their apparent upset at having been imprisoned in the brig.

“Is one of you going to tell me why you went through this elaborate charade?” he asked.

One woman opened her mouth. The man next to her nudged her and she closed it again.

“Fine. Then we’ll leave you here while we take a look at your ship. We’ve never seen a Nausicaan Raider up close. Your silence will be very beneficial to Starfleet.”

He turned and walked out.

The murmurs began - and then the disagreements. The next moment a scuffle and then a fight had broken out. Six Nausicaans punched, grappled and tumbled as they dared each other to test them.

“Alright! Wow - ok, we know you can fight!”

They paused to look through the force field.

“Hi,” waved Tilly. “I’m here to ask you a few questions, because the Captain’s too busy and quite frankly, I think you need my help.”

“Go take a walk outside, human!” the closest man spat.

“Back when we were in the officer’s mess - you said you were hungry,” she blurted.

Two of the woman let go of each other’s necks and paid her more attention.

“See? I knew it,” Tilly smiled. “You came here to raid the kitchens, right? Ship’s stores? You’re not here to kill anyone. I mean, yeah, you could have done, but you left one guy with a broken nose on deck six and you pretty much barrelled through everyone else you met. You keep saying you’ll kill people, but only one of your guns was even on a damaging setting.”

“You dare challenge me!” a male shouted. He ran at the force field.

Tilly jumped back but she needn’t have bothered; the force field simply bounced him off like a child on a trampoline. He was hurled back and into his shipmates before he could blink.

“So… you’re not hungry?” she asked. “Because… we’re Starfleet. We would have helped you if you’d just _asked_.”

Two of them exchanged a glance, clearly confused.

Tilly sighed. “Right, so instead of all this shooting and fighting and hurting people, you could have just called us and said something like, ‘hi, sorry to bother you but we’re starving and we have this long story why we can’t just buy or grow food but if you could like feed us we’ll tell you all about it and maybe you can think of a way to help us sustain our eating habit’.” She stopped with a wide smile.

“Nausicaans don’t ask permission,” one woman spat. “We take.”

“And that’s why you’re in the brig and I’m out here,” Tilly sighed. “When was the last time you ate anything?”

“What business is it of yours?” a man snapped.

“Well what if I just _gave_ you some free food, and then you all calmed down.” She put her hands up. “You’re all a bit ‘hangry’, if you ask me. Don’t worry, I get it - I’m the same when I’m on a shift for like eight hours and didn’t have time to eat…before… I… You’re all staring at me.” She paused. “Oh. Yeah, so free food for everyone?”

The six Nausicaans punched the air and howled in victory.

Tilly nodded and turned away. “Free food for everyone. And then we put you back on your ship and you go anywhere but here.”

She heard a beep and pulled her communicator free. “Ensign Tilly here.”

“Ensign,” Saru said. “Have you learnt anything?”

“Yes Captain,” she said. “It’s the strangest thing; they didn’t really want to kill anyone. They just wanted to borrow a cup of sugar.”

“A what?”

“No - I meant—. Uh, Captain - if we feed them they’ll calm right down and then I think we can all talk.”

“Ah. In that case you shall be in charge of the menu this afternoon, Ensign. And then we shall see about sending them back to their government, such as it is.”

“Sir?”

“We have been informed by the closest Federation outpost that the six Nausicaans we have in custody are wanted people,” Saru said. “We will have to make a detour to hand them over.”

“But we were on our way to Vulcan, sir.”

“I am aware, Ensign. However this must take priority. I’m sure Ambassador Sarek will understand - and it will only take us a few days.”

“Yes Captain.” She closed the communicator. Then she sighed and looked over her shoulder at the grinning people. “So… barbecue ribs all round, I’m thinking.”

And she walked out of the brig to head for the mess hall.

 

**TBC**


	2. One Lump or Two

**TWO**

**One Lump or Two**

 

The _Discovery_ hung in orbit of the station, the same way as rocks don’t, waiting for Acting Captain Saru to move or speak. He hadn’t done either in over an hour and it wasn’t just Lieutenant Bryce at the comms station who was starting to wonder if the Kelpien had fallen asleep with his eyes open.

A quiet beep made Bryce jump in his skin; even though he had been waiting for the signal for what felt like most of his life, the sound of it alerting him to an incoming transmission still scared the bejesus out of him for just a nanosecond. He tabbed at the button and looked up. “Captain - Commander Burnham is hailing us from the Federation outpost.”

“Finally,” Saru breathed. “Let’s hear it, Mister Bryce.”

“Aye, sir.” He opened the channel.

“Commander Burnham to the _Discovery_. Captain, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Commander Burnham,” Saru said with obvious gratitude in his voice. “Report.”

“We’ve handed over the Nausicaans, sir, and are prepping the shuttle to rejoin you. We should be with you in the next ten minutes.”

“Excellent,” Saru said, then relaxed back into the command chair. “We shall expect you.”

“Yes sir. Burnham out.”

Saru nodded to himself a few times. “It will be good to get under way.” He looked over at Lieutenant Detmer. “Helm - ready a course for Vulcan, warp five.”

“Course already laid in, sir,” she smiled.

“As expected,” he said, more pleased than mild.

 

-^-

 

Burnham flipped switches and reset the shuttle’s flight path, plotting a new course up from the rather barren airlock-cum-docking port on the edge of the Federation station. She heard hurried boots and then Lieutenant Rhys brushed past her to drop into the other pilot’s seat.

“Sorry,” he blurted. “Couldn’t get away.”

Burnham spared him a glance. “Couldn’t? Or didn’t want to?”

“If I hear one more ‘show me your medal’ pick-up line I’ll resign my commission,” he tutted.

She smiled. “A medal of honour is a medal of honour, Lieutenant.”

“Do you eat meat?” he asked.

Burnham blinked. “You are the most random person I know. And I know Ensign Tilly.”

“No, I mean… I got given a gift from one of the security people here. I _think_ ,” he said, turning in his seat to look at the empty shuttle behind them, “it’s like some kind of beef jerky. I didn’t know if you’d want to pick the best stuff before I left it in the officer’s mess to get shared out.”

Burnham smiled. “Vulcans don’t eat meat. I also prefer not to.”

“Well you know where it’ll be - tell the ship to dig in.”

She toggled switches and the shuttle doors sealed and locked, the compression filters started up and lights came on across the board. “Ready?”

He spread his hands over the control console and nodded. “Oh yeah. The sooner we put all this behind us and get to Vulcan the better.”

She manipulated controls and the shuttle lifted gently from the platform. It turned gracefully and pointed toward the large metal safety curtain currently lifting between them and empty space. “Have you been to Vulcan before?”

“Never - I just want shore leave.”

“You and half the ship, it seems. Over to you.”

The shuttle moved out on thrusters only, adhering to Federation regulations until it was free of the structure. Then it swayed around to point toward the starship that was positioned some way above them, looking for all the world like it had its arms folded and its foot tapping in impatience.

“Here we go,” Rhys smiled, moving controls. The shuttle aligned itself with his adjustments and began to push off.

And then it stopped dead.

Inertia and the fact that they weren’t wearing safety harnesses nearly drove the two of them into the control console.

“What was that?” Burnham demanded, already interrogating the read-outs for a clue.

Rhys frowned as he too searched. “No idea - nothing in proximity, nothing touching us - no propulsion problems, no… nothing.”

“Well that felt like we hit something.”

He waved a hand up in helplessness. “I can’t find it, Commander.”

“Get us back to _Discovery_. I’ll continue to analyse,” she said.

“Yes sir.”

The shuttle again pushed off, making straight for the starship.

 

-^-

 

Saru swayed through the door to the shuttle bay, wending his way to the shuttle just opening its side door. He waited as Burnham climbed out and straightened up.

“Captain,” she smiled, handing him a PADD.

He glanced at it but let it drop to his side. “I shall read your report later. It is just a relief to have you both back on board and in one piece.”

“Yes sir,” she said, turning at the sound of Rhys stepping down from the shuttle.

“I can’t find anything, Commander,” he said, then looked up from the tricorder in his hand. “Captain.”

“What have you lost, Lieutenant?” Saru asked.

“Oh, ah - nothing, sir. We had a little bump on the way back and can’t find what caused it.”

“Then I shall leave it in your capable hands,” he said, inclining his head and turning away.

Burnham looked at Rhys. “Let’s go over the whole shuttle. I don’t like the idea of not knowing what that was.”

“Some might call that paranoia,” he smiled.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “On this ship? It’s caution.” She paused. “And maybe a little bit of paranoia.”

“You need shore leave,” Rhys grinned, pointing at her.

“That I do. _After_ we’ve found out the cause of that little blip.”

Saru had crossed to the wall and jammed a thumb into the comms device. He bent his neck down to speak into it. “Bridge, this is the Captain. Please execute your course for Vulcan at your earliest convenience.”

“Aye sir,” came Detmer’s reply.

Saru let go of the button. He turned and found the two officers busying around the shuttle. His face barely stretched to a smile, but it may as well have been a grin as he turned and walked out of the large doors. They closed behind with him with a self-satisfied _hisshh_.

So he didn’t see the tiny blob drop from the underside of the shuttle, to gather itself together and slide away from the voices of the two Starfleet officers.

 

-^-

 

Tilly leant over the table in the officer’s mess and gasped. “It’s like real meat!” she grinned.

“It _is_ real meat,” Rhys said. “Please - take some.”

“Do you even know what it is?” she asked. She picked up a transparent wrapper containing what looked like a slab of a dark red, almost brown substance the size of her hand. “I mean… it’s not space whale, right? Please tell me it’s not space whale.”

“I was going to ask Doctor Pollard if she could determine the species, at least.”

“And then see if it’s cooked properly?” Tilly asked, but all of her attention was still on the meat.

“And that,” he said. “I mean, a couple of Federation officers gave it to me. How bad can it be?”

She turned on him as her eyes rolled. “Never ask that kind of question. You _don’t_ want the answer.”

Another blue uniform came up behind them.

“Ensign, when you asked to get us both refills I didn’t think you were taking an entire break… from… What’s this?” Lieutenant Commander Paul Stamets came to a verbal and emotional stop, blinking down at the meat spread out across two tables. “Is someone planning a barbecue?”

“What is a barbecue?” said another voice.

All three of them turned to find Captain Saru towering over them.

“Oh, Captain,” Rhys blurted. “I was sharing my gift from the outpost station with the crew.”

“Is that… animal remains?” he asked, aghast. “For food?”

“Uh - yeah - maybe I’ll just - uh - remove it,” Rhys stammered.

“I’ll help,” Tilly said. She rounded on the table and began to hastily swipe it all together into a pile.

Stamets shook his head. “Well _I’ll_ get us fresh drinks and get back to Engineering. Ensign - hurry up and let’s get back to work.”

“Yes sir,” she called over her shoulder.

Stamets looked up at Saru, nodded his head, and disappeared. Saru rolled his eyes and walked off.

Tilly swept the offending articles back into their packing case and snapped the top shut. “There, all better,” she said with a smile.

Rhys pointed at the table. “You missed some.”

She picked them up casually, swiping imaginary hair from her eyes. “Those are mine. My cut for helping.”

He grinned. “Right.” He went around the table and picked up the case. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Spread the word.”

She gave a theatrical wink and then giggled.

The floor under their feet suddenly bucked; Rhys dropped the case, Tilly barrelled into the chair next to her and grabbed it to keep upright.

“That’s not good,” Rhys breathed.

Tilly gripped the chair again as the decking seemed to heave sideways. This time the chair was not enough; Tilly and Rhys went over like dominoes in a world record attempt.

“This is the Captain,” boomed Saru’s voice throughout the ship. “We have dropped out of warp. Stay alert for possible… turbulence.”

“Turbulence,” Tilly scoffed as she got off the floor. “We’re in _space_.”

Rhys brushed himself down and then put the case back on the table. “I’ll get back to the armoury.”

“I’m going to Engineering,” she nodded.

 

-^-

 

Stamets growled something under his breath. “We have Impulse only, Captain,” he said into the communicator lying open by his hand. “Warp core is offline.”

“Why, Commander, why?” came Saru’s concerned reply.

“No data yet, sir. I’ll let you know.” He reached over and snapped the communicator shut hastily. “Just give me a minute to find out first; I’m not a magician.”

He heard the door open and then the sound of hurried feet that spoke of Ensign Tilly. “What do we know?” she asked, out of breath.

“Nothing, Ensign - absolutely nothing,” he tutted. “There is no reason why the core took itself offline. It _thinks_ it was the victim of a breach-inducing spike, but I can’t find any evidence of that.” He paused and look at her. “Go through the log and analyse what it thinks caused the spike.”

“Sir,” she nodded.

He went over to the other side of the room and brought back his case of tools. “Please don’t say I’m going to have to open this up and clean an injector head.”

“Uh… this is weird,” she announced.

“This is _Discovery_.”

“No, I mean - Rhys says something stopped the shuttle they were in earlier today. Like, stopped it dead as if they’d hit a wall - but there was nothing there. Now we drop out of warp because the log here says the warp core thought it was about to breach and it panicked.”

“Why is that weird?” he asked slowly.

“Well the reason it thought it was going to breach was that it was ramping up energy to compensate for a drag that was causing the ship to slow to warp one. It was just for… fifteen seconds - the core over-performed to get us back to warp five but it was finding it harder and harder to do that, so the safeties extrapolated what would happen next and shut it down.” She frowned. “And that’s why we dropped out of warp.”

“So what caused us to slow to warp one in the first place?” he asked, coming over to look over her shoulder at her workings on the console.

“That’s what’s weird - there’s nothing there.” She shook her head in confusion. “There’s nothing solid, there’s nothing gaseous, there was no problem with the warp bubble - I just don’t see a reason for it.”

“Can you verify that we were actually at warp one for those fifteen seconds?” he asked.

“Give me a minute, sir.”

He drew back and went around the console to look at his own workings. Then he picked up his communicator and opened it again. “Commander Burnham, Lieutenant Rhys - can you please come to Engineering,” he asked. It chirped and he set it down again.

Tilly looked across at him. She bit her lip. Then she looked back down at her work. Finally she glanced up.

“What is it, Ensign?” he asked, pre-occupied.

“Uh… nothing.”

He sniffed, then raised his eyes to peer at her as if in need of a pair of glasses. “What. Is. It?”

She huffed. “Just that… with everything that’s happened… I mean, losing… uh… _people_ and…” She swallowed.

He looked down. “Focus on your job, Ensign,” he said quietly.

“Heh,” she said awkwardly. “You think we can fix this today?” she blurted, desperate for a silence-killer. “I mean I really want to get to Vulcan. I’ve never been.”

“If you looked at your work and not me, the odds of that would be greatly improved,” he said with a polite smile.

“Yeah - oh yeah - of course,” she nodded.

It was so silent even the consoles tried to make a few unnecessary beeps.

Finally Stamets cleared his throat. “Your concern is not needed, Ensign,” he ventured quietly. “But it is appreciated.” He looked at her. “You don’t have to say anything to help. You are… You bring it into the room with you.”

She could do nothing but meet his eyes and nod.

The main door opened and Rhys appeared. “Hi. Someone wanted me?”

Stamets turned to watch him approach his console. “Your report of the shuttle stopping earlier - where is it?”

“Oh, uh - it’s with Commander Burnham. She gave it to the Captain like an hour ago.”

“Then it’ll be in the ship’s logs somewhere,” Stamets nodded. “Thank you.”

“So… you don’t need me? Can I go? I’m stripping rifles.”

“Whatever moves your furniture,” Stamets said.

Rhys looked over at Tilly. She nodded in confirmation and he turned and fled. He almost bumped into Burnham as she came through the door.

“You called?” she asked with the barest of smiles. She stopped by Tilly’s side.

Stamets didn’t look up. “I needed your report of the shuttle, but Rhys has just told us you’ve handed it in.”

“Do you want to hear my conclusion?” she asked, folding her arms.

He looked at her. “You drew a conclusion?”

“You know we’re not supposed to include them in an official report,” she smiled.

“True,” he allowed. “What was yours?”

“We couldn’t find a shuttle problem; there was a drop in power but we couldn’t substantiate the drop even though the shuttle recorded one. My own conclusion is a fault with the shuttle.”

“That’s funny because our warp core just did the same thing,” Tilly said.

“Ensign,” Stamets said mildly.

Tilly smiled. “Sorry.”

Stamets looked at Burnham. “Tilly’s correct though - roughly the same situation just threw us out of warp.”

Burnham frowned, her arms dropping from across her. “And the status of the warp core?”

“Now? Perfectly fine, like nothing happened,” he said. “However, Tilly has identified what the problem wasn’t.”

“What it _wasn’t?_ ” Burnham prompted.

“Yes. The warp core safeties recorded a problem, like your shuttle, and shut down the core before it breached. However there was nothing to cause the the problem it recorded,” he said. “Most annoying.”

“Yeah,” Burnham said to herself. “Uh - can I borrow Tilly? I think I may have to go over the shuttle again.”

“Of course,” Stamets said.

Tilly secured her console before nodding at Burnham. She looked back at Stamets. He inclined his head and she followed Burnham out of Engineering.

Stamets waited until the door had shut behind them. _Then_ he let his hand go up and brush his hair back over his ear, in just the way he wished a certain someone could still do.

His hand dropped. He shook his head and went back to work.

 

-^-

 

Tilly waved the tricorder over the underneath of the shuttle slowly, shaking her head. “Still nothing. Do you have a Vulcan hunch or something?”

“Vulcans don’t have hunches,” Burnham called from the other side. “However, they have been known to make educated guesses. From time to time.”

“Say it isn’t so,” Tilly teased. She walked back from the side of the shuttle until her boot hit a packing crate behind her. She jumped and turned to check the situation; something fell and clattered between the crate and the wall. She sighed and walked around the large crates, squeezing between the metal boxes and the smooth wall.

Burnham came round from the far side of the shuttle and found Tilly’s tricorder on the floor and the Ensign missing. “Uh - Tilly?”

“Just - clearing up - my mess, Commander,” she huffed, shuffling down toward what appeared to be a fallen toolbox.

Burnham stood on tiptoe to look over the top of a crate in front of her. “Be careful.”

“Hey, I’m a destroyer of star systems. I’ll be fine.”

“Not in this universe,” Burnham smiled.

“I’m still a destroyer. Mostly of burritos, but a destroyer.”

“True,” Burnham grinned.

An unearthly yelp made the Commander jump back in shock. She found her hands gripping her own tricorder in alarm.

“What? Tilly - what?” she shouted. “Are you ok?”

The crates were jostled by an unseen force. Tilly came flying out from behind them. She bumped straight into Burnham and they went down in a heap. Tilly scrambled to her back and elbows - her heels began to propel her away from the crate.

Burnham got to her feet. “What?”

“Uh—”

“Ensign!” she snapped.

“A thing! There’s a - a thing - a creature - behind there!”

Burnham backed up and fished her communicator out from the pocket on her leg. She flipped it open, her eyes sharp on the crates, awaiting further movement. “This is Burnham. Security to the shuttle bay - right now,” she demanded.

“Aye sir!” someone called back.

She flipped it shut and put her hands to Tilly’s arm, helping her to her feet.

“Well don’t I feel stupid,” Tilly said weakly. “It’s not big, Commander - it’s barely a foot across and I think it’s made of jello,” she added. Burnham let go of her arm and Tilly brushed herself down. “All I’ve done today is fall over. I need like elbow and knee protection sewn into my uniform. And maybe some for my ass.”

Burnham crept closer to the crate. “A foot across, you said.”

“Yeah - a dark colour, I think. I’m sorry I screamed but I thought it was a spill. Then it just moved and was this pillar thing like it was sitting up and I - well. It surprised me.”

Burnham put her hands to the crate and her head went over the other side. “I see it.”

“Careful! —Is it moving?”

“No,” Burnham said, confused. “It’s… not moving around but it’s… changing shape. Like it’s… deciding what to do next.” She blinked. “I think you scared it.”

“Well turnabout’s fair play,” Tilly said gingerly.

Burnham shook her head. “I don’t think it meant to frighten you, Tilly. I mean it was just sitting there.”

“Is it ok?” she ventured. She came up to her side and looked over the crate. They stared down at the lump, currently leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

The shuttle bay doors opened and a man and women raced in wearing black armour and carrying rifles. “What’s the situation?” the woman demanded.

Burnham stepped back, her hand up in warning. “Stand down - false alarm,” she said.

The two security officers breathed a sigh of relief, their shoulders visibly sagging.

“However,” Burnham said with a smile, “if you can get us a containment unit from sickbay we can have this all figured out.”

They nodded and left the room.

Tilly and Burnham looked at each other. Then Tilly went back round the crates and began shoving them out of the way to aid her inspection of the small creature. She put a hand over the top of the crate. “Tricorder, please.”

Burnham picked up Tilly’s device and leant on the crate to hand it to her.

Tilly began to scan. And scan.

 

-^-

 

Saru came into sickbay to find officers clustering around a biobed as if bets were being exchanged. He swayed to a stop behind Doctor Pollard and cleared his throat.

She turned with a slight smile. “Captain. Your officers here have a quaint theory they’d like to share with you.”

Burnham nodded. “We do, Captain.”

“I hope so,” he said curiously. “What has happened here?”

Stamets was standing across the bed from the two women, Tilly next to him. “The Ensign here found a creature in the shuttle bay. It turns out upon further inspection to be sentient… kind of.”

“Explain,” Saru said, his head tilting.

“It’s not sentient itself,” Doctor Pollard said.

“—But it seems to be looking for its sentient half,” Tilly added eagerly.

Saru head tilted the other way. “Explain,” he repeated.

“Well… this part doesn’t have any brain functions, or anything that could replace them,” she said. “It doesn’t even have a slave brain, like the ones at the tops of octopus legs.”

“Octopus?” Saru asked.

“An Earth sea creature,” Burnham supplied.

“Well is it in the earth or the sea, Commander?” he asked, confused.

Burnham let that run through her head. “No, I meant a sea creature from the _planet_ Earth.”

“Ah. Please continue,” he allowed.

“Right… so we think this is a _piece_ of a creature. It’s like a limb, to all intents and purposes. And somehow it’s become detached from its owner. It doesn’t have a brain but it is able to move by itself and it seems to be wandering around touching things, as if testing them.”

Saru came closer and bent to see the jellied lump currently bumping into the inside of a glass container on the bed. It gave the impression it was very intent on getting through the corner. “And where do you suppose the rest of it is?”

Tilly shrugged. “We don’t know, but when we tested it, it showed signs of Federation metals. It’s been stuck to ship’s surfaces.”

“It must have been what caused the energy degradation that made the core compensate for our drop in velocity. And the consequent safety shut down that pulled us out of warp,” Stamets said.

“Ah,” Saru nodded.

“But we couldn’t find any trace of it in the logs when it caused it,” Tilly said, “because it’s not a normal bio or organic signature. The computer didn’t know what to classify it as so it tried to measure its mass. When it failed at that too it had nothing to record. So it didn’t,” she added.

“Perhaps Starfleet could look into adding an ‘unidentified signature’ classification to its process,” Saru said, pre-occupied. “And where did this come from?”

Burnham put her hands behind her back and straightened up. “I believe it came from the Federation station.”

Saru stood tall and surveyed the group of them. “Evidence?”

“It was not on the ship before we dropped the Nausicaans off,” she said simply. “There were no incidents until the one in the shuttle - that was identical in nature to the ship’s. We must have picked it up on the shuttle as we left the station, and it transferred here somehow.”

“Then… if this is a limb trying to find its owner, how do we help it?” Saru asked.

Stamets peered at the specimen, noted its dedication to one particular corner. He glanced over and saw a familiar transparent packet containing something dark brown peeking out from under a medical blanket. He darted concerned eyes at Doctor Pollard. She noticed and casually moved the blanket up over the top to hide the packet. Stamets cleared his throat. “We could go back to the station and try to detect something there.”

“We have no idea how long that would take. We have yet to fulfil our orders to report to Vulcan,” Saru said clearly.

Tilly’s eyes widened. “Oh - oh no,” she blurted. “We have it all wrong. All of it.”

“Pardon?” Saru asked.

“We need to go back to where the ship first dropped to warp one.”

“Why?” Stamets asked, watching the creature bump into the side of the glass cage still.

“Well… It’s a crazy idea but…”

“There are no crazy ideas, Ensign,” Stamets said. “Just crazy people.”

She grinned. “Well what if we’ve just pulled a hit-and-run? I mean, this thing could have been in space and our shuttle slammed into it and ripped its arm off in the collision. It got stuck on the shuttle and only had a chance to get free when the shuttle got back to the ship. Maybe the drop in warp was actually a _second_ collision - maybe that’s when the actual body of the creature was trying to stop us and get its arm back.” She paused, noticing the looks of disbelief currently being shot her way. “Whatever this belongs to was on the _outside_ of the _Discovery_ , and that’s why the computer didn’t record anything going through the warp core.”

Saru blinked rather owlishly, as if stalling for time. He looked down at Burnham. “Thoughts?”

“Uh… she may be right,” she said. “But if we did hurt something and we did this? We need to make it right.”

Stamets nodded, looking down at the creature in the glass. “If we do need to get our hood ornament here back to its owner, the place we hit something would be the best place to start looking for it.”

“Agreed,” Burnham said. She looked up at Saru.

“You have my full support,” he said. “We will return to the point of the _Discovery’s_ impact with the… creature and see what happens next.”

“Yes sir,” Burnham said.

 

-^-

 

Detmer slowed the _Discovery_ with expert handling, bringing the starship to a crawl. “Approaching the co-ordinates given to us by Ensign Tilly, Captain.”

Saru, back in his command chair, sat forward. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Bring us to the exact spot and then all stop, and hold position.”

“Aye sir.”

The starship drifted and then, ever so gently, eased to a complete halt. Tiny thrusters _pff_ ed and _sshh_ ed to keep her in the right spot as the officers on the bridge strained to see out of the front viewscreen.

Saru looked over at Bryce. “Anything?” he asked.

“I’m not picking anything up, Captain,” he said slowly. He peered at his controls, kept checking over and over.

The door to the bridge opened and Burnham and Stamets entered. “Captain,” Stamets said. “If you try scanning we probably won’t be able to pick it up. We had no end of trouble getting readings from the limb in sickbay.”

“What do you suggest, Commander?” he asked.

Stamets looked at Burnham. She stepped forward. “I think we should deposit the limb into space and see if it can find its way back by itself.”

“Leave it out there all alone?” Saru asked.

“I don’t know that we have a choice,” she said.

Stamets cleared his throat. “We’ll find something,” he said confidently. “We always do.”

Saru nodded. “Then we set it free and hope for the best. Make it so.”

Burnham and Stamets nodded and left the bridge. Saru settled himself in the chair, ready for a long wait.

 

-^-

 

Burnham watched Stamets lift the glass box containing the creature from the biobe. “You already have an idea, right?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m reasonably confident that this little hood ornament is attracted to whatever that meat is that Rhys brought back from the station,” he said, hefting the specimen and its temporary home toward the doors of sickbay.

Burnham blinked before hurrying to catch up. “How do you know that?”

“If you leave that stuff across the room this tries to barge through glass to get to it,” he shrugged. “It appears to like it.” The door shot open and he walked off.

Burnham followed. “So… you’re going to release this into space, and throw the meat out after it?” she hazarded.

“Like chumming the waters,” he smiled. “What do you think?”

“I think… Logically, both this piece and the main creature would be attracted to the same thing. If they both headed for it, then they would be reunited.”

“Precisely,” he smiled. “Want to test that theory?”

“I’ll round up the meat and find you in the cargo bay.”

“Yes, Commander.”

 

-^-

 

Saru held down the button on the arm of the command chair. “Are we ready?” he asked.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” was Stamets’ response.

Saru nodded. “Release the limb at your convenience, Commander.”

“Yes sir.”

Saru sat back. “That must be the most bizarre order I’ve ever given.”

He heard a slight sound and looked over. Lieutenant Bryce was rubbing a hand over his chin and coughing politely.

“Something amusing, Lieutenant?” he asked.

“Nothing, sir. Just hoping the little fella gets home.”

Saru eyed him. “Hmm. I see the human need to assign genders, or anthropomorphise everything, is alive and well.”

“Oh. Sorry, sir,” Bryce said. “I only meant that I want the best for the little… limb, sir.”

Saru nearly smiled. “As do we all, Mister Bryce.” He sat back round and concentrated on the viewscreen. “Carry on, people.”

 

-^-

 

Stamets and Burnham, now geared up in complete EV suits and tethered to the inside of the shuttle bay, checked the specimen over for the last time before Burnham nodded.

She slung a bag over her arm and went to the wall, pressing the commline. “Captain - we’re depressurising the shuttle bay now. We’ll then open the door and release the creature.”

“Understood, Commander. Good luck.”

She let go of the comms button and then went through the complicated code needed to free the shuttle bay controls from safeties. An alarm went off, coupled with a small red light above the far door, and then the pressure sensors in their suits showed the bay losing it at an alarming rate.

Burnham tapped some more and the door began to open up to space. More alarms, more red warning lights went off, but the two of them ignored this as they walked calmly to the monstrous open doorframe.

Stamets put the glass container down carefully and then lifted the lid. He put his gloved hand in to find the creature already trying to climb out. It mountaineered over his glove, then up his wrist until it paused. It turned into a tower of jellied, almost transparent ripples and he smiled.

“It’s a pity we never named you,” he said quietly.

Burnham approached from the side. “You have a minute, if you still want to.”

He turned his helmet to look at her, then down at the creature. “Hunter,” he shrugged.

She grinned, then put down the bag. She opened it up and the creature slid off Stamets’ arm to _plop_ to the decking. It inched along toward the bag even as Burnham pulled out the first packet of meat.

“You know, I really hope it just thinks that’s food, and isn’t trying to reconnect with it,” he said quietly.

Burnham paused in horror. She looked at the next sealed lump in her hand. “You don’t think—”

“No,” he said flatly.

She looked down to see the creature had enveloped the meat packet - and then shaken and shimmied until the plastic coating was peeled back. It regurgitated the unwanted covering and then sat shivering in perhaps delight.

“I’m not so sure that’s a limb,” Stamets said.

“Then what?” she asked, watching it wobble toward the bag.

“What’s if it’s like a space starfish?”

“A space-fish,” she teased.

“That would account for it devouring food like that.” He paused. “How about we throw the rest out into space and see what happens?”

“Fine by me.”

They upended the bag and began to pick up packets. Stamets tossed one as far as he could, then eyed Burnham. “A drink says you can’t go longer than me.”

Burnham grinned as she took hold of a parcel. “You’re on.” She leant back and hurled.

The packet spun end over end, making them both clap.

—Until it stopped dead in space. The next thing they knew, the packet was enveloped by something they could barely see.

Stamets looked down; the tiny creature rippled itself against the decking in apparent excitement before it propelled itself off. It flew out of the open bay door and then gave a silent _splat_ as it hit the barely discernible shape currently vacuuming up meat packets.

The larger shape paused in its gathering; it rolled, something rippled, and then a colour spread through the entire creature.

It lit up bright yellow, and the two officers stumbled back in surprise.

Easily the size of the _Discovery_ , the creature floated effortlessly in a formless, undulating mass of happiness. As Stamets and Burnham watched, open-mouthed, it performed a perfect barrel roll before sucking up the last of the meat. Large waves came out of the sides and then it stroked them through space, making away from the ship.

They stared at it, watching the yellow fade as it once more blended in with the background. Barely able to make it out against the starfield, their eyes slowly lost it to distance and camouflage.

“That is… incredible,” Stamets whispered.

A beep reminded Burnham they were on comms. “Captain,” she managed.

“We have seen and tracked a large yellow shape, Commander. What is your status?”

“Uh - we’re good, sir. I think we just re-attached a limb - and fed it.”

“Fed it?” Saru asked.

“It’s done, sir,” Stamets said. “We’re all good.”

“Then we may leave?” Saru asked.

“Absolutely,” Burnham said.

“Please prepare to get under way,” Saru said. “Secure the shuttle bay and let’s get to Vulcan.”

“Aye _sir_ ,” Burnham grinned.

 

 

**TBC**


	3. Lifting Spirits

 

Captain Saru swayed onto the bridge and looked around. He saw people bent to their work, enjoying the fact they weren’t being shot at, threatened or otherwise inconvenienced. Sitting slowly and getting comfortable, he looked over at Lieutenant Detmer at the helm.

“Ok then, helm,” he said with not an insignificant amount of satisfaction, “take us to Vulcan. No doubt they are as eager to receive us as we are to finally get there and take on our new captain.”

“Aye _sir_ ,” she nodded, and her fingers flew over the console.

The _Discovery_ began to turn in space, lining itself up with the course laid in. Detmer’s fingers hovered over the correct sequence to engage the engines. She couldn’t help a smile as she pressed it in.

The ship leapt off as if kicked, reaching warp five in mere seconds.

Until the lights flickered, the consoles went offline, and the ship didn’t so much fall out of warp as trip, plummet, and flail to a stop.

Saru was thrown from his seat; others were thrown into their consoles or chairs. As the Kelpien climbed to his feet and dusted himself down, the bridge crew regained some composure by philosophising that it wasn’t the _worst_ they had experienced recently. “Report,” Saru called out. “What is it _this_ time?”

Owosekun, over at the navigation seat, waved an ineffectual hand out in a way that suggested she was stalling for time. “Uh - no readings, sir. My console’s still off.”

Saru resisted the urge to roll his eyes and huff. Instead he gripped the bottom of his uniform jacket and tugged it down into place. He strode around to Owosekun’s console and towered over her shoulder to inspect it for himself. Then he looked across at Bryce at the comms station. “Lieutenant Bryce, would you do me the favour of checking in with Engineering, please?”

“Yes sir,” he said hastily, pressing at colours and trying to reach anyone in the aforementioned department. He was rewarded with a grumpy message that conveyed in exactly two syllables how busy Lieutenant Commander Stamets was and also how likely he was to reply in the next few minutes. He cleared his throat and looked over at Saru. “They said - uh - they’re on it, Captain.”

“Did they give any indication as to what the problem _is_ , Mister Bryce?”

“None, sir.”

“Of course,” he said mildly, but Owosekun felt the intense displeasure radiating from the Captain like steam from fresh tea. Saru turned and, rather elegantly considering his monumental unimpressedness, went for the main doors to the bridge. “You have the conn, Lieutenant Owosekun,” he said, almost as an afterthought.

The doors swallowed him up.

Everyone on the bridge sagged.

Quite beeps, buzzes and chirps bathed the deck in reassuring running noises.

“What’s the Stardate?” Bryce asked quietly.

Detmer turned her chair to look at him. “2634.2. Why?”

“I knew it,” Bryce sighed. “It’s a Monday.”

 

-^-

 

Saru stepped into the turbolift and folded his arms in front of him in serene confidence. “Engineering, please,” he said.

The lift sped off and he watched the inside of the door with quiet contemplation. Time and ship sped by until the lift deposited him softly at his destination deck. The doors _hishhed_ open and he strode out into the corridor, turning a sharp right and walking on until he came to the doors of Engineering. They opened for him, partly out of a sense of duty but mostly in wary observance of his deeply suppressed disapproval.

He stalked in to see Lieutenant Commander Stamets glaring at a schematic on the display at eye-height, and Ensign Tilly doing the same from the other side.

“Then it’s an overload,” Stamets was saying.

Tilly shook her head. “It’s not overloading in the normal sense, though. It’s like it’s choosing to route power through areas it knows it shouldn’t go, and then acting surprised when they fail.”

“But why the warp core?” Stamets grumped.

“Commander,” Saru said.

The two officers jumped and looked at him. “Captain,” Stamets said. “No, we don’t know what caused it yet. But no, it doesn’t appear dangerous at this time. More… inconvenient.”

“ _Very_ , Commander,” Saru said, his voice only just on the polite side of control. “Do you have an estimate of when this _latest_ problem will be eliminated?”

“Not yet, sir,” he said, his face starting to turn red.

“But we’re confident it will be soon, Captain,” Tilly put in quietly.

“I hope so; this is becoming a regular occurrence,” Saru said. He turned on his non-existent heel and began to walk away. “Keep the bridge informed.”

“Yes sir,” Tilly said.

Stamets glared at his console for a moment. Then he looked at Tilly. “Take over,” he snapped.

She blinked but nodded. Stamets made a beeline for Saru, the two of them walking out of Engineering together. She took a deep breath, let it out in a calming gesture, then shook her head and got on with analysing the data in front of her.

 

-^-

 

“Captain? A word please?” Stamets said as he kept pace with Saru down the corridor back to the turbolift.

“I believe your time would be better spent fixing yet another Engineering problem.”

Stamets’ mouth opened. He thought better of the words daring to leap out of it, and instead bit his tongue. Physically.

“Captain?” came a new voice.

Saru paused and turned. “Ah, Commander Burnham. I believe you are off duty.”

“On this ship? Never,” Burnham smiled. She looked from the Captain to Stamets and back again. “I felt - almost like - turbulence. Is everything ok?”

Stamets’ face spoke volumes as he cleared his throat. “We’re having a _tiny_ malfunction in Engineering but apparently it’s the latest in a catalogue of errors and faults.”

Saru turned to look down at him. “That is factually correct, Commander, but it is not the issue here.”

Stamets’ face turned red. Burnham put her palms up quickly. “Woah woah woah,” she said hastily.

Saru simply turned and began the walk to the turbolift again.

Burnham leapt forward and grabbed Stamets’ arm. “You ok?”

“No,” he said, shaking his elbow free of her grip. “I’m tired of the constant sniping at my entire department.” He marched off.

Burnham looked down at her jogging pants and off duty t-shirt and sighed. She hurried to catch them up just as they entered the turbolift. The three of them crowded in and the doors shut.

“Bridge,” Saru barked. The lift sped off. He rounded on Stamets. “Why are you not in Engineering?”

“Why are you always blaming everything on the one department?” he shot back.

“Have a care with your tone, Commander,” Saru said.

“Uh - sir?” Burnham said quickly. “Everyone seems a little stressed out. Why don’t we—”

The lift slammed to a stop so hard everyone was thrown a foot into the air before landing in a heap on the carpet.

The lights went out.

Everything was silence.

Burnham put her hands to the surface currently pressing into her face and was relieved when it was regulation Starfleet carpet. She pushed and rolled to sit herself up. “Is everyone ok?” she asked in the darkness.

A groan and a huff and then she heard slapping sounds, presumably hands being wiped together. “I’m ok,” Stamets said.

“Captain?” Burnham asked. “Captain Saru?”

No answer.

“ _Captain_ ,” she asked, louder.

Again, only silence greeted her.

She got to her hands and knees and shuffled round the curvature of the lift space, using the wall as a guide to carefully map out the area. She stopped as her hand encountered material. “Captain - is that you?”

“Is he unconscious?” Stamets asked, somewhere to her left.

Her eyes began to acclimatise and she made out a shape in front of her across the carpet. Whatever it was seemed to be arranged in a twisted heap, with a significant portion of it up against the wall.

“I can see him - I think.” Her hands went to the vague shape and she encountered material. She slid them up, trying not to press in any way at all, until her fingers recognised the folded-over collar that told tales of the end of the uniform. She paused, then rubbed her fingers together. “This is wet.”

“That’s not good,” Stamets said. His voice began to move as he continued. “Can you see where he’s bleeding from?”

“I can’t,” she admitted. “We need light. Is there anything you can do?”

“In a turbolift with no power? Watch me,” he said vehemently.

She bit her lip as she heard him move across the carpet. A metallic squeak to her left, some kind of shuffling and movement and then his ‘hmm’ of thought. She ran her hand up carefully, tracing the flow of wet, until she recognised the side of Saru’s head.

“Sir,” she said clearly. “Can you hear me, Captain?”

His head moved suddenly. “Uh - Burnham.”

She grinned. “Yes - it’s me. You were unconscious, we think. How do you feel?”

A long exhale, followed by a sniff. “I believe I am… ok. Is anyone else hurt?”

“No,” she said. She touched gently at the side of his head, just off to the side of where she surmised the blood to be coming from. “But I think you’ve hit your head here - I don’t think it’s serious.”

“Are you sure?” Saru asked.

“Your threat ganglia aren’t out,” she said.

Abruptly a single, small light blinked on above. She screwed her eyes up for a moment, then looked around.

“Ta-da,” Stamets said with ultimate sarcasm. “I’ll try to get some comms online - we have to call Tilly to get us moving again - and Doctor Pollard for the Captain.” He turned back to the open panel in the wall in front of him. His hands went in and he concentrated on finding the right settings.

Burnham’s eyes were going up and round Saru’s head, finding just a thin dribble of blood from the side. “I think the bleeding is already stopping,” she said, kneeling more comfortably next to him. “If Kelpiens are anything like humans then wounds to the skin on your head can look worse than they are.”

“Huh,” he managed, then coughed. His hand came up and she gripped it, but he used it to push himself further up against the wall. He huffed, letting go of her and then patting at her knee. “Thank you,” he wheezed.

“Can you breath ok?” she asked.

“I am fine,” he managed. “What’s happened?”

“Complete power failure,” Stamets said tightly. “Go on, blame _that_ on Engineering too.”

“Commander,” Burnham said in reproach, but Saru waved his hand up.

“Let him speak,” he managed. “He seems to have an issue.”

“You’re damned right I do,” Stamets said, turning from the panel. “Every single thing on this ship that goes a tiny bit awry is blamed on my department. You don’t even say it outright, you just do it with your tone of voice.”

“Commander,” Burnham snapped.

“—Captain,” Stamets added quickly, with much less heat.

“How would you like this resolved, Commander?” Saru asked.

“Just - just _ask_ before you assume it’s an Engineering thing!” he blustered. “Y’know, half the time when power goes out or something is fouled up it’s _not_ actually an Engineering error! Take for example that problem with the lights on the bridge - you wanted them fixed because they kept ‘blinking’. Me and my team spent _four hours_ finding _nothing wrong with them_ \- it turned out it was a reflection! A reflection! I’m sorry I’m not in control of the entire physics spectrum on the ship, Captain, and therefore reflections _not_ being one of my team’s capabilities!”

“Ok!” Burnham cried, annoyed. “Take a breath, Commander.”

“Well the Captain asked, and far be it for me _not_ to do anything the Captain—”

“Paul!” she cried. “Breathe. And please see what you can do with the comms.”

He bit his lip, then looked at his hands. “Yes Commander,” he said quietly. He turned back to the open panel.

Saru huffed and put both hands to the carpet either side of him. “Mister Stamets is correct,” he managed. “As Captain, it is my job to ensure smooth running. I expect all of the department heads to do the same. Recently we have experienced… anomalies and problems, and they have… unfortunately… been more of an Engineering nature than any other.”

Stamets did not turn from the panel but Burnham saw all too well the way his shoulders hunched as he continued to work.

“However,” Saru continued, his voice stronger, “it is precisely because Engineering is so well-run that I expect them to know everything - because they normally do.” He paused to think. “It is the hardest-worked and the most integral department. And yet it continuously takes all kinds of problems and scenarios in its stride.” He shook his head. “I do not say this, but everyone on the ship knows it.”

“Let’s get out of here before we start the department briefing,” Burnham smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Stamets turned away from the wall slowly. “I owe you an apology, sir,” he said, his eyes on his hands.

“You certainly do, Mister Stamets,” Saru managed. “But only for your conduct here in this lift. Your department is exemplary and very often the only resource we have to save the ship.”

“Ok, I think you can stop there,” Burnham said kindly. She patted his shoulder. “Just rest, Captain. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“As you always do,” he breathed. “This crew is outstanding. It’s a pity their Captain is so ill-equipped to attend to the obvious need of its crew.”

She swallowed and looked at Stamets. He met her eyes then spun back to the panel.

 

-^-

 

Tilly, her chin in her hand and the attached elbow on the control console, sighed. “A simple workflow error,” she muttered. “He’s going to go nuts when he sees this.”

She stood up, stretched her arms out, and then began to decode and parse the main bulk of the error. She paused, looked back at the schematic, and then her head tilted.

“Weird that’s it’s only taken out the turbolifts,” she mused. “You’d think it would be all the stuff that…” Her voice trailed away - and then her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh no. _That’s_ what it is?”

She reached over and picked up her communicator, flipping it open.

“Ensign Tilly to Lieutenant Commander Stamets,” she said hopefully. A chirp made her peer around the side of the desk to find a communicator on the surface. “Great. You’re supposed to carry it around _with_ you, Commander.” She huffed and closed the communicator. “Well it’s not like he can get into trouble without it.”

 

-^-

 

Stamets connected and rewired, rerouted and patched. Eventually he stood back from the panel in the wall. “All I can get is comms to anyone who’s walking past a turbolift.”

“Wide range dispersal?” Burnham asked.

“Yes. I can’t get into a chosen line, it’s just indiscriminate broadcasting.”

“Commander, please being broadcasting for help, and keep it on repeat until we are found,” Saru said from his seat on the carpet.

“Yes sir,” he said quietly. He reached back in and began to fiddle.

Saru shook his head. “This is my fault.”

Burnham frowned. “What, the power outage?”

“No. The Commander’s assertion that his department is targeted for undue criticism; the fact that we do not have a Captain; the fact that I cannot do such a simple thing as _get us to Vulcan_.”

Burnham sat back, arranging herself cross-legged. She folded her feet up onto her knees and put her hands to the carpet. “That doesn’t make sense, sir. You’ve already explained why you might have seemed a little… hard on Engineering. Not having a Captain is not your fault - and you _are_ the Captain for now. And it’s not your fault that we’re not yet on Vulcan.”

“In the eyes of my superiors, I am responsible for all failures, no matter how they arise on this ship,” he sighed. “I did not spot a problem with Captain Lorca. I was so pre-occupied with trying to be a good First Officer that I accepted his orders when I should have questioned them. I should have done as Lieutenant Commander Stamets has done - I should have stood up for departments more.” He shook his head. “I did not.”

“He fooled everyone,” she said quietly.

“Even more reason for me to have been sharper than most, as First Officer,” he replied evenly. “And since then, I have tried to be more objective, to consider things in a way that would not let me make such a mistake again. Instead I have upset department heads and failed to get us to Vulcan.”

“We have documented reasons why we aren’t yet on Vulcan,” she argued. “And Starfleet were happy that we apprehended a bunch of wanted Nausicaans, _and_ that we got to study a new life form.”

Saru’s head tilted toward her. “You are finding reasons to placate me.”

“I am speaking logically, Captain. We are not on Vulcan yet, but that does not mean we will not make it there.”

“But _when_ , Commander?” he asked. “We need to pick up our new captain, and soon.”

Stamets turned from the panel. He slid down the wall to rest in a heap. “Everyone has lost something, Captain. All of us. And yet everyone stills looks to you to guide us in everything.” He shrugged. “That’s what Captains do.”

“I cannot imagine the loss you feel,” Saru said quietly. “I know that in some way I am responsible.”

“You’re not,” Stamets said. “The person responsible is dealt with. Let’s leave it at that.”

“A Captain is _always_ ultimately responsible,” he said irritably. “All I want is to get to Vulcan. Why is that so difficult?”

“The universe is a weird place,” Burnham offered.

“ _Not_ good enough,” Saru snapped. “The universe owes this ship a big favour, and I am _tired_ of us being delayed time and time again in something that should be so simple.”

“Well when we get to Vulcan and take on our new captain, you’ll be absolved,” Stamets said. “Then you can relax and go back to being Number One.”

Saru said nothing, preferring instead to inspect the carpet by his right hand.

Stamets and Burnham exchanged a look that was all about wariness.

A beep made them all jump.

“Hello - Commander Stamets?” came a tinny, quiet voice.

Stamets jumped to his feet. “Yes! Who’s this?”

“Airiam, sir. Where are you?”

“Stuck in the lift!” he cried happily. “We’re in turbolift seven - we have no power and one service light. I need you to contact Ensign Tilly and tell her what’s happened. And then I need you to _get us out_.”

“Yes sir!” she replied. “If I leave this spot will I still be able to receive you?”

“Uh - no,” he said, his shoulders sagging.

“Then… I will improvise. Please stand by.”

The three of them looked at each other. All was silent.

They waited, hardly daring to breathe in case they missed some further development.

Abruptly something metal groaned and protested. Burnham sprang to her feet as she noticed Stamets looking at the doors behind her.

A chink of light, then a swathe, bathed the turbolift in a welcome change of recycled air. They looked up to see the doors held open, but most of the opening being dark and cold. Only the very top of the gap, and barely a foot high at that, told tales of carpet and a serviceable deck.

“Commander?” Airiam asked, her face trying to poke through the gap at the top. “Captain! Is everyone alright?”

“We are unharmed, Commander,” Saru said. “However we need power as soon as practicable.”

“Understood, sir.” Her face drew back and then her arm came through, holding her communicator. “Take this. I will go to Engineering and we will converse through that.”

“Officer thinking,” Burnham grinned, jumping to take the communicator.

Airiam’s hand disappeared and her head came back to the hole. “I will hurry.”

“Good work!” Burnham called, even as Airiam withdrew and it all went beige.

 

-^-

 

Engineering was chock-full of people; Saru and Burnham were on the steps, surveying the assembled crew. Stamets and Tilly were off to the left of the stairs, both looking at PADDs and still making adjustments.

“Thank you for taking a break in your very important work to listen to me today,” Saru announced. He put a hand up to the recently healed cut in his head in a self-conscious manoeuvre that made Burnham look at her running shoes. “It has been brought to my attention that you have received unfair judgement recently, not just from the other departments but myself in particular. I wish to rectify this and to re-assure you that I have, and have always had, the utmost confidence in your department. It is a matter of fact that everyone on the ship knows how hard you work, and how you always seem to rescue us from our own follies.” He paused. “All I require now is your assurance that we can be on Vulcan in the near future.”

“Uh - Captain.”

Saru turned to Stamets. “What is it, Commander?”

He offered him a PADD. “From what Tilly’s discovered, this whole power problem was caused by upgrades that were performed on Earth before we left. We can’t go above warp two.”

The Captain took the PADD and began to read. “I see.”

“And… we can’t do anything about it out here. Luckily we’re still close to the Sol system - we’re going to have to double-back and dock at Jupiter Station to get this fixed.”

“Of _course_ we are,” Saru tutted.

Burnham stepped up to his side and looked out at the assembled people. “Thanks everyone - as you were.”

Crew nodded and turned, going back to the jobs around the Engineering deck. She turned to Saru and put a hand up in a request for the PADD.

He handed it over. “You… take over, Commander,” he sighed. “I’ll be on the bridge.”

“Sir,” she nodded.

Saru turned and walked out. Stamets nodded at Tilly and she gave him her PADD and walked back down to her station. Stamets found himself alone with Burnham. “Now I feel like a shit,” he said.

She shrugged. “It’s not your fault we’re going to have to go back to Jupiter Station.”

“I should have checked their upgrades more stringently.”

She shook her head. “Tilly says everything they did passed all the tests. You did everything you could.”

“And it wasn’t enough. What does that say?”

Burnham opened her mouth, then regrouped. “It says everyone is finding a reason to blame themselves for things out of their control. It says we all need shore leave.”

“On Vulcan.”

“On Vulcan,” she grinned. Then she stepped back. “I’ll report to the bridge. You… work your usual magic down here.”

“It’s a constant struggle,” he said ruefully.

She nodded with a grin. “We know.” She patted his shoulder and walked out of the large doors.

Stamets turned back to the stairs and looked out over the crew assembled. He watched them make an effort to straighten up, to appear alert, to keep working. “Everyone!” he called. “Everyone - stop what you’re doing.”

Officers paused, unsure of the problem. They turned and looked at him.

“You all follow my orders quickly and perfectly,” he called. “So you must ensure you follow this next one very, very carefully.”

They nodded, already poised to begin work.

He shook his head. “All of you - down tools and get round to the officer’s mess and get into the best spirits - literally _and_ figuratively. No-one is expected back on duty until the next shift, which is in…” He looked at the PADD in his hand. “…Four hours. Go - all of you. Relax. This one _isn’t_ on us.”

People grinned and high-fived each other, others patting backs, shoulders, external limbs. They began to file up the stairs and past him, nodding in respect and thanks as they left the room.

Stamets waited until they were gone and then ambled down to his favourite console. He sensed movement and was unsurprised to see Ensign Tilly appear from a far console.

“Sir,” she said quietly. “Doesn’t ‘all of us’ include you?”

“I’m the skeleton crew.”

“You need at least two to call it a crew,” she ventured. “Request permission to join the skeleton crew, sir.”

He smiled, almost a chuckle, as he nodded. “Permission granted, Ensign.”

“Thank you sir.”

 

-^-

 

“Sir?” Burnham asked, approaching the command chair on the bridge.

Saru didn’t even look up. “I’ve literally _just_ sat down,” he sighed. “What is it now?”

Burnham put her hands behind her back. “I need you to see something, sir.”

“Do I have to get up?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

He put his hands to the arms and pushed himself up with the usual grace but also just the slightest resentment. “Lead on, Commander.”

She waved a hand out to lead the way to the side room. Saru followed her in and the door closed behind them.

“I hope you don’t mind, sir - I had someone bring it up for you,” she said.

Saru came around her to see Georgiou’s telescope - _his_ telescope - set up by the window. “You had someone go into my private quarters and bring this up here?” he demanded. “Why?”

“Because Captain Georgiou said once that… looking through this helped her to see the woods instead of the trees.”

“I do not understand.”

“It’s an Earth expression - when you can’t see the bigger picture because the details get in the way.” She put her hands out toward the telescope. “This helped her see the bigger picture.”

He looked at her, then the telescope, then back at her. “You arranged this for me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Because you think I’m being too narrow-minded?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, not at all. I think everyone is getting way too… burdened. —With things they think they caused but didn’t.” She paused. “I think you just need to see something other than the inside of this ship. Just for a little while.”

He came closer, then gently put a hand to the viewing aperture. “What is it trained on?”

“Gliese 674.”

“Ah. I have been to 674 B - as a science adjunct, a long time ago.”

“Happy memories, sir?”

“Very,” he said, bending to look through the eyepiece. “It started out well, but we were the victims of a freak weather condition and consequent cave-in. However the crew pulled together and we saved ourselves in a matter of hours.” He paused. “The view is still… remarkable.”

She smiled. “Sounds like a good memory to have.” She spun to go. “I’ll leave you to it, sir.”

“Commander,” he said sharply.

She rocked to a stop, surprised. She turned slowly. “Sir.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

She grinned. “You’re welcome, Saru.”

She walked out.

Saru adjusted the focus just slightly on the telescope. He permitted himself a wide, happy smile.

 

 

**TBC**

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I posted on tumblr that I hoped season 2 would just be the Disco on its way to Vulcan to pick up their new captain, only they keep getting side-tracked so they never actually get them, so Saru has to stay Acting Captain. This is for discoveryfles who asked how many times they could possibly get side tracked, and for pippastrelle, who is already totally ready for Disco to be a sit-com.  
> Brace yourself for nods to other Trek series, old-fashioned sit-com nonsense, and my first Disco fanfic.


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